St Valentine's Kat
by DarkJisushiku
Summary: Farfarello brings home a "cat" that supposedly has hurt God. But what Farfarello doesn't know is that he has accidently SAVED this "cat" from suicide. {Fluff} {Not what you think.} {R&R}


Disclaimer: Schu and Farf and anyone else in WK are not mine. If they were, I'd keep them locked up in my closet for me and only me.  
  
Warnings: Uh...none. Unless Valentine's Day and Farfarello deserve their own warning? What do you think?  
  
Author's Notes: Uh... Happy Valentine's Day! Or Unhappy Valentine's Day! Which ever way you look at it....  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
St. Valentine's Kat  
  
RING!  
  
"Rrrr..." A slim hand fumbled to find that blasted alarm clock on that stupid nightstand. Once the nimble hand found that godforsaken thing, it pounded the clock mercilessly until it was knocked clear off the table. "Shuddup..."  
  
Yawning, the sleepy man fell back into a slumber. But soon after a small scratching at his door woke him up again.  
  
"Com'un'," moaned the man into his pillow.  
  
He heard the door creak open and a shadow of a man entered.  
  
"Schuldich, what do you feed cats?" came a hoarse whisper.  
  
The German sunk into his pillow, cursing Farfarello, Farfarello's God, and his half-pounded, half-dead alarm clock for merely being turned on.  
  
When Schuldich made no attempt to answer, Farfarello repeated the question.  
  
"Cat food," groaned Schuldich, pulling the covers over his head. He listened as Farfarello walked out of the room. Putting the question out of his mind, he fell back asleep. Soon after, though, Farfarello was back in Schuldich's room, leaning over the bed, now asking where the cat food was.  
  
"We don't have cat food," said the German in a mixture of snapping at Irishman and yawning at the Irishman.  
  
Farfarello didn't say anything, but just stood silently, helpless over Schuldich.  
  
Finally, the redhead snarled, "Go away!"  
  
Again, Farfarello made no attempt to move. Instead, in that soft, hissing Irish accent, he asked, "Where do you get cat food?"  
  
"At the store."  
  
Farfarello nodded and started to walk out of the room.  
  
Schuldich sprang up into a sitting position, a sudden dawning of comprehension washing over him. "FARF! YOU CAN'T GO TO THE STORE! BRAD WOULD KILL ME!"  
  
"I need cat food," replied the Irishman stiffly.  
  
"Why?" asked Schuldich, annoyed with his partner.  
  
"For the cat."  
  
Schuldich rolled his eyes and hissed, "Of course, Schuldich, he needs cat food for the cat! I mean, a cat eats cat food, doesn't he, Schuldich?"  
  
Farfarello just waited, making no regard to the fact that the German was muttering to himself in third person. It was three in the afternoon, after all, so you couldn't really blame him, could you? People just don't function at three in afternoon! That's too early for the brain to start working.  
  
"Okay, okay," Schuldich finally said. "Farfarello, -" (It seems that he had gotten out of his third person thing.) "- you can feed the cat milk."  
  
Farfarello nodded and happily waked out of the room. Schuldich curled back into his nice, warm, cozy blankets and prepared himself for at least two more hours of sleep. But, after two minutes of closing his eyes, he jolted back up. What cat?  
  
He stumbled out of his sheets, toward the door. They didn't own a cat - did they? "And what the heck is Farfarello doing out of his room? Didn't I lock him in last night? How did he get OUT?" moaned the German, his mind starting to awaken. After much running into random objects and colorful cussing, Sleeping Beauty ended up in the living room.  
  
Schuldich just stared.  
  
On the couch (his couch, none the less) was a teenage girl, who was calmly sipping milk out of Crawford's favorite coffee mug. She wasn't Japanese - there wasn't any doubt about that. Her long reddish blonde hair flowed over her shoulders, like a cascading waterfall. Her sad, emerald eyes were red and puffy, the result of many hours of crying.  
  
'I'll never be happy again,' she thought in English, as she watched an anime show on the TV.  
  
Okay, so she could speak English. And judging on the accent, she was American. An American girl in the middle of Japan, in the middle of Schwarz's house, in the middle of their living room, in the middle of Schuldich's house. Okay...the Mastermind could handle this. But he couldn't really handle that Farfarello thought they had a cat.  
  
'Schuldich, that's my cat,' said a voice in Schuldich's head.  
  
"C-cat?" fumbled Schuldich. Oh, that explained the milk.  
  
"Yes." Farfarello brushed past him, sitting himself next to the zombie- looking girl. "She liked to hurt God..."  
  
"Oh - really?" Schuldich managed to say. Where the heck was Crawford and Nagi? Why hadn't anyone noticed this?  
  
"...She made him weep..."  
  
"Oh, yeah?" Okay, seriously, where WAS Crawford?  
  
"...She tried to kill herself..."  
  
"Uh-huh..." Shouldn't Crawford be here today? Wasn't it Saturday?  
  
"She scared him, by trying to jump off the city bridge..."  
  
"Yeah - what?" Schuldich looked from the girl to Farfarello to back at the girl. Schuldich suddenly knew that Farfarello hadn't only gotten out of his room this morning, but had also gotten out of the house! "What were you doing outside with out supervision?"  
  
Of course, the answer was simple: He was trying to hurting God again.  
  
"...I bet God wept," Farfarello continued, ignoring the redhead.  
  
Schuldich turned his attention to the girl and began searching her mind. She was fifteen. A exchange student. Had a boyfriend. Lost a boyfriend. Decided to commit suicide.  
  
"Wait a second," muttered Schuldich. "Boyfriend - no boyfriend - suicide," he worked out. "No boyfriend? Suicide? What a stupid reason for killing yourself." But, of course, in America, today was Valentine's Day. The day of lovers. She must have been a "little" depressed by that thought.  
  
"Yes, and stupid reasons hurt God," agreed Farfarello. "She's a cat, too. Cats are used by witches, who hurt God."  
  
The girl seemed to be listening indifferently to the conversation. She was too upset to be bothered by either of the assassins.  
  
"What's your name, girl?" asked Schuldich, staring at the rings of red around the girl's eyes.  
  
"Kat," she answered softly.  
  
Oh...that explained it...  
  
"Would you like to go home?" asked the German.  
  
"Yes, sir," she mumbled, sighing.  
  
Schuldich grabbed her by the hand and lead her outside to his car. Farfarello followed, frowning.  
  
"That's my cat, Schuldich," Farfarello pointed out, as Schuldich opened the car door for Kat. Schuldich ignored the Irishman.  
  
Farfarello climbed in the back seat with Kat, as Schuldich sat in the driver's seat. He started the car and began driving the girl home.  
  
After some time of driving, Farfarello asked, "Where are you taking my cat?"  
  
"Home," answered the German, trying to find the address Kat gave him.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"She needs to go home."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because."  
  
A long pause.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Rrrr..." It took all Schuldich's will-power NOT to reach back and strangle the madman. He instead changed his attention to the clock: 4:34 p.m. This hour was about as unholy as three o'clock in the afternoon. No wonder he was still tired. People shouldn't be forced to be awake at this time.  
  
Once at the girl's boarding house, Kat moved to get out, but Farfarello clasped her hand. The pale man unlocked his dog collar from around his neck and gave it to her. The girl just stared, unbelievingly, at it. She finally put it on her own neck. It was Farfarello's way of saying "You did a good job at hurting God today." But, of course, Kat didn't know that.  
  
Then something happened that Farfarello wasn't quite ready for...  
  
Kat threw herself on the man that had saved her and brought her into his home, scaring him to bits. She embraced him rather tightly, and if Farfarello could feel pain, he knew it would hurt. Then she quickly pecked his cheek, saying, "I won't forget this Valentine's Day." And she rushed away, up to her house and locked herself in.  
  
Schuldich turned around to face the back. "Farfarello...?"  
  
"Drive. Now. Schuldich." muttered the dazed man.  
  
Schuldich pulled out of his parking place and started driving home.  
  
"Farf...," Schuldich started, but paused, not really knowing what to say.  
  
"...I really HATE cats."  
  
The End 


End file.
